


Time, Slipping

by pitytheliving



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Character Death, Future Fic, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sexual Content, Social Media, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 21:44:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16146152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pitytheliving/pseuds/pitytheliving
Summary: 'It started with a slight pain in the chest, and nothing else. Yuuri would think later, at the funural of all places, that their lives had been torn apart in such a silent and unobtrusive manner.'When Victor gets sick, its all that Yuuri can do to hold himself together. When they previously had years, now they have only moments in time, slipping away faster then either of them can bear. Yuuri is who he is because of Victor, he knows the meaning of love because of Victor. But bearable or not, this is the journey they must take; together and then apart.But no matter what, Yuuri will never be alone.





	Time, Slipping

It started with a slight pain in the chest, and nothing else. Yuuri would think later, at the funeral of all places, that their lives had been torn apart in such a silent and unobtrusive manner. It was so unlike Victor, really. So undramatic. So understated. If only events had been more like his husband, blunt and obvious. Victor had been a lot of things, but undramatic had never been one of them. 

Their season at the time had been one of their best. Victor had retired two years previously, but he was still ever present in the competition, coaching Yuuri and Yuri, as well as choreographing their routines. His face lit up with every jump that Yuuri landed, his smile bright and open. When Yuuri stood on the podium at the GPF, a silver medal shining on his chest, Victor laughed out loud. Yuri scowled at the joy, his bronze medal a clear disappointment to him. The glare that Yuri gave to JJ, who had just won his first gold of the final, made him laugh even more. 

The next day he first noticed the pain. Victor put off his doctor's appointment, ignoring the troublesome stabs of pain that interfered with his breathing only marginally. It was months later, after Worlds, with Yuuri world champion and Yuri in a close second, that he finally slowed down enough to pay attention. By then it was far too late.

\----------------------

 

"Yuuuuuri..." Victor whined, "I don't want to go. It's probably just a sprained muscle."  
Yuuri sighed and leant over to kiss his husband, a tender and chaste peck on the cheek. He squeezed Victor's hand reassuringly. "I know you don't like doctors," He said gently, "But you're in pain." Not that his husband would never admit it. Skaters lives were full of pain; it accompanied every moment on the ice. There were bruises from falls and aching feet and the dull burn of overexertion. Yuuri had seen Victor ignore many injuries. But this pain was different, it had been going on for too long. And although Yuuri wouldn't admit it out loud, he could feel a sense of unease about it. Even worse, Victor had been getting short of breath, not just when skating but even when going up the stairs to their apartment. He hadn't been running with Yuuri for the past few weeks, claiming he just had to get over a cold. But the breathlessness hadn't passed. 

"Just go, old man," Yuri growled from across the room. He was sitting on their sofa, feet up on the coffee table, hunched over with his attention seemingly fixed on the game he was midway through. "We've had enough of you wheezing like a pensioner. I need you in top form so you can help me beat JJ next season." He muttered something inaudible under his breath, no doubt a savage insult towards his most disliked rival. Yuuri hid a smile. 

"I'll drive you," Yuuri offered," We can go for lunch at that awful place you like near the hospital?" 

"Da!" Victor agreed immediately. Yuuri had never quite acquired the taste for Russian food, even with the cold of the St Petersburg winter pressing down on them. His distaste for Borscht meant that they often disagreed on where to eat; since Victor hated to disappoint Yuuri they were far more likely to go to the places that Yuuri picked out. Yuuri leant his head against Victor's shoulder before standing up and gently pulling Victor to his feet. "Come on then, let's go. Yuri, you want to join us?"  
"And watch you two morons be soppy for an extra two hours? No thanks."

Yuri had been living with them for the last two years, ever since his grandpa had died. It had been a difficult time for the young skater, and the only way he'd managed to get through it was with the support of Victor and Yuuri. They had only been married for a year at the time, but hadn't hesitated to invite him into their home. The arrangement had worked so well that even though Yuri had now turned eighteen, he hadn't moved into his own space. The three of them were a family, if a non conventional one. It had been hard at first, but Yuuri wouldn't have had it any other way.  
"We'll bring you back some pirozhki," Yuuri called out as they left, the younger skater grunting in thanks without looking up. 

In the car Victor was chatty as ever. 

"He is right, Yuuri. JJ was looking good this season, Not as good as you, of course," He said with a wink. "You'll need to work hard to beat him at the GPF this year." 

"Yuri needs to beat him more than me," Yuuri said with a groan, "I can't stand any more moping." 

"My Yuuri deserves the gold," Victor whined, "As your coach I need you to be number one to be satisfied..."

Yuuri raised an eyebrow. "You seemed very satisfied last night..." 

"You did win gold," Victor pointed out, "How could I resist that? I could hardly keep myself together watching you skate." 

Yuuri flushed, remembering the night before. It had been passionate despite the tired ache from the free skate. He had been much achier the next morning. 

"I knew you would defend your World Champion title," Victor carried on, "I said so plenty of times."

"The competition was strong this year," Yuuri said with a sigh, "There were so many good skaters. I'm getting too old for this really." He had been thinking about this for a while, the worry keeping his eyes open long into the night. There had been a time when he had been ready to retire out of fear, but now retiring was becoming a nesesity. The problem was, he wasn't ready. He didn't know how he could be. Victor had taken well to retirement; he still enjoyed the drama of competitions as a coach and choreographer. But for Yuuri it wasn't about the performance or suprising the audience; it was all about the feeling of ice beneath his skates as he leant into the music. The idea that it would be over... he wasn't sure what he would do. 

"You're only 27," Victor scowled, "And you haven't injured yourself. You're still at the top."

"Not for much longer though. How long before I have to pass things over to Yurio and the younger skaters? This could be my last season Victor."

"Wait and see," Victor scolded, "You don't have to make a decision now." Yuuri lapsed into silence, not sure what to say. 

At the doctor's office, Yuuri waited outside, reading the sports news on his phone. It was sometime later that Victor came out, looking shaken. Immediately Yuuri was on his feet and moving towards his husband. He took Victor's hand and looked into his eyes, searching them for answers. 

"She wants me to have an X-ray," Victor murmured, looking worried, "And to have a few other tests. Then I'm going to see a specialist." Yuuri felt his heart pound as the worries rushed into his head. He could feel his breathing intensifying and he had to consciously slow his inhalations, using the techniques he had practiced to calm his mind before competitions. 

"Why?" Yuuri asked, trying and failing to stop the worry from seeping into his voice. The idea of something being wrong brought a sense of panic so stomach turning that he had to push it away or risk his breakfast coming back up. Victor was everything. 

"I've lost some weight recently," Victor said with a shrug of confusion, "That seemed to worry her."

"You didn't tell me," Yuuri muttered. Guilt washed through him. How had he not noticed something like that? The truth was he had been so wrapped up in World's, in winning gold, that he hadn't been paying as much attention to his husband as he should have been. He had felt so sick with dread at the idea of failing his own performance, he hadn't been concerned with how Victor was doing. 

"It's probably nothing," Victor said in a voice filled with false reassurance, " I've been so busy recently and I've been exhausted, so I've probably been eating less than usual. But since I've been a bit short of breath, she thought we should be safe."

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. Victor had his blood taken, his eyes squeezed shut while the phlebotomist gently eased the tiny needle into his vein. Yuuri held his hand, gently rubbing circles into his palm. Victor did not like needles, or doctor's in general. The X-ray took longer; they had to wait a while to be seen. By the time they were finished the restaurant that had been promised had long since closed for lunch, and they were both too exhausted to stay out long enough for dinner. They drove home in silence, afraid to talk about what everything could mean. Victor had another appointment scheduled for after the weekend, when the results would be back and they would hopefully know what was going on. 

"How was it?" Yurio asked as soon as they came in. He was still sitting on the sofa, not making eye contact, acting like he didn't care. They could all see through his nonchalance though; he was worried too. 

"I have to go back on Monday to get some test results," Victor said, "But I'm sure it will be nothing. Now can we get some dinner? I was promised borscht and Yuuri failed to deliver."

The weekend passed uncomfortably slowly. It was like they were still in the waiting room at the doctor's, tense and bored but dreading what was to come. They skated, tried to act like things were normal, but the tight feeling refused to let any of them go. When Monday came Yuuri drove Victor again, skipping training; Victor didn't even try to talk him out of it, showing how worried both of them really were. 

The specialist was a respiratory physician at the hospital. Her clinic was running late and they had to wait an hour past their allocated slot, not improving the day. When Victor's name was finally called Yuuri stood up with him, not wanting him to have to face this appointment alone. Victor gave a small smile in return, and Yuuri knew he had done the right thing. 

The doctor was in her mid thirties and fairly brisk and no nonsense. She asked Victor about his various symptoms and how long they had been there for. The things she asked seemed random to Yuuri, especially when she asked if Victor had ever worked in construction. 

"I'm a skating choreographer," Victor said with a frown. "Before that a skater. Why?"

"I know your career well," the doctor remarked, "But is there any time that you might have been exposed to any dust, or any building work?"

Victor thought for a while. "When I was very little, the skating rink I was at needed reconstruction. They closed the rink but I carried on skating their even with the workers carrying on around the rink. There was nowhere else to skate, so the skaters who were really serious used the rink for the year that they refurbished it."

The doctor looked concerned by the answer. "Victor, your chest X ray showed some fluid that has built up in your lungs. I need to analyse the fluid to be sure of my suspicions. I'm sorry, it involves a needle and might be a bit uncomfortable, but it's very important."

Victor nodded. He looked so uncertain and unsure of himself that Yuuri could barely recognize him for a second. Victor was almost always filled with emotion, filled with confidence. His expression floored Yuuri almost as much as the doctor's request. 

The doctor quickly prepared her equipment. She gave Victor a shot of anesthetic, which was all Yuuri watched. Instead of following her procedure he watched Victor's face, looking into his eyes. It took a while to drain the fluid; after it was done Yuuri looked over. He recoiled at what had come out of Victor's lung; it was dark and blood stained. 

"Victor," the doctor said, "I'm going to have this analysed but I need you to have some tests now. You're going to have another scan, and depending on what that shows you might need to have a sample of your lung wall taken." 

"I don't understand what's going on?" Yuuri said, after a long silence that Victor couldn't seem to break. "I'm sorry, but why does my husband need all these tests?"

"I don't want to frighten you," the doctor said, "because things are still uncertain. But I'm worried that your husband may have a rare type of cancer." 

After that, everything that she said became white noise. The world blurred and all Yuuri could make out were Victor's eyes, wide and surprised, locked onto his in fear and confusion.

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go! I had the idea for this after a dream I had about Yuuri skating alone. It's going to be sad, but not all the way through. Hope you enjoyed. I haven't written anything in a while, so not sure how quickly I'll be able to update, but hopefully I'll have the next part up soon.  
> Anyway I'll stop rambling and let you get on with your life... please let me know what you thought!


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